


Golden

by untilitbreaks



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-GPF in Barcelona, Victor Nikiforov Is In Love, i don’t know how to tag this it’s just: soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27355933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilitbreaks/pseuds/untilitbreaks
Summary: Viktor feels tears prick at his eyes before he can stop them. Yuuri notices immediately, and this time, he isn’t surprised to see him cry. “Vitenka,” he says, lifting his hands to wipe away Viktor’s tears. Viktor’s breath catches in his throat. Yuuri always speaks a little easier when he has a little champagne in him, but tonight he’s not even tipsy, mostly sobered up from what he’d had at the banquet. “What if I went with you to St. Petersburg?”Before Yuuri, Viktor didn’t know how to be loved. Yuuri had taught him how, and so much more, and now Viktor doesn’t know how to live apart from him.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 202





	Golden

**Author's Note:**

> i have no explanation for this other than that i rewatched yoi and had to write a fic. viktuuri are whipped. enjoy!

The first time Yuuri had attempted the quad flip in competition, Viktor hadn’t had time to think or even breathe. He’d looked into Yuuri’s eyes as Yuuri had pointed to him and he’d known then: _I’m going to kiss this boy._

And he had. Yuuri opened his arms for Viktor like he had dozens of times before, and Viktor had met him on the ice and kissed him in front of hundreds of people—in front of the whole world.

It’s funny—not even a year ago, Yuuri had been grinding on Viktor at the Grand Prix Final banquet, drunk off champagne and more vulnerable than Viktor had ever seen another skater. In the nineteen years he’s been skating, he’s had dozens of friends and competitors alike cry on his shoulder over botched programs or personal problems, but none have been quite like Yuuri, who had unashamedly offered his entire self up for Viktor to love.

And now, a few months later, Viktor can’t imagine life without Yuuri. He simply can’t. Who is Viktor Nikiforov without Yuuri Katsuki? It doesn’t matter anymore, because Viktor isn’t ever going to let go of him.

Tonight, after the Grand Prix Final banquet, in which Yuuri and Yuri had been hailed as kings, they hold on to each other tightly, giggling and stumbling, as they make their way back to their hotel room. It’s hard to believe that this Yuuri, who can barely stand on two feet, is the one who had broken Viktor’s free skate record. As soon as the door is shut behind them, Yuuri pulls Viktor down on top of him on his side of the bed—pushing their beds together had, of course, been the first thing they had done when they’d checked into the hotel.

“Viktor,” Yuuri murmurs, and he looks at Viktor like he had just before his free skate, like he’d kiss him on ice all over again. Viktor leans down eagerly, still not used to the feeling of Yuuri’s lips on his. He’s never kissed anyone like Yuuri, anyone who he’s loved so irrevocably—but Yuuri holds a finger to his lips, stopping him. “How much time do we have left?” he says.

“Forever,” Viktor says, and he’s so close to Yuuri that he can feel the way his breath catches. “Forever, I’ll have you forever, even after you retire.”

Words like these are said sparingly, reserved to the most tender moments, especially before Viktor had decided to return to skating and Yuuri had asked Viktor to continue coaching him. They’re words that make Viktor feel hot under his collar and warm in his heart. And they’re true, Viktor knows, because he’s never felt so certain of anything in his entire life, even when he’d left Russia to coach Yuuri.

“I know,” Yuuri says, and Viktor feels that fire light inside of him all over again. “But when are you going home to St. Petersburg?”

 _Oh._ Discomfort rakes down Viktor’s spine in the form of a shiver. He starts to move away from Yuuri, but Yuuri holds him tight by his shoulders and refuses to let go. “I’m timing my return to the Russian Nationals,” Viktor says. He strokes his thumb against Yuuri’s cheek. Their rings shine in the moonlight streaming through the window. “Coaching you has kept me in shape. I just have to finalize the program.”

Yuuri breathes in sharply and Viktor watches as a thousand thoughts flash through his mind. Viktor had purposely avoided practicing the programs he’d been working on in front of him, but he would have been blind not to realize what Viktor was doing, even without the music he was skating along to in his mind. Up until Yuri had broken Viktor’s short program record, he hadn’t even been sure that he would make his return this year, but the itch to skate had been in the back of his mind for weeks, growing fiercely.

But Yuuri must know, too, that Viktor wouldn’t be the person or the coach or the skater he is today without Yuuri’s love. The first time he’d even considered returning to skating this year had been at the Cup of China, when he’d told Yuuri that, if he didn’t land on the podium, he’d take responsibility by resigning as his coach.

It hadn’t been because he’d thought himself incapable, or because he’d thought that Yuuri would fail, that the thought had blossomed into reality, but because he’d realized how much Yuuri inspired him—not just to choreograph his programs or be his coach, not just to leave home and start a new life somewhere else, but to completely reinvent himself. He’d felt it the most strongly after he’d won his fifth world championship: he’d reached a breaking point in his motivation, and needed something—or someone—to accompany him on a journey to heights that he simply could not reach alone.

“But that’s only a few weeks away,” Yuuri says, and—he doesn’t sound disappointed, which breaks Viktor’s heart a little. Yuuri may be selfish at times, but he wants Viktor back on the ice more than anyone else in the world. “Are you going straight home, then?”

Not long ago, home had been Hasetsu, and now it’s wherever Yuuri is. The last time Viktor had been in St. Petersburg, he’d felt empty inside. “Viktor Nikiforov is dead” is what Yuri had told Viktor as he’d watched him stand in front of Barcelona’s ocean, admiring the engagement ring on his finger. In reality, Viktor had been dead even before he’d left for Hasetsu, and it had been Yuuri who had brought him back to life.

Viktor shakes his head. “Of course not; I would send you home alone.” Yuuri lies still underneath him, waiting patiently for him to continue. “I can stay in Japan for a week before flying to St. Petersburg.”

Yuuri deflates a little. “Oh,” he says, like he hadn’t been expecting Viktor’s answer despite assuming something even worse. “You are leaving, then.”

“I’m not,” Viktor says, with such an intensity that Yuuri flinches. “I have to train in Russia until the Nationals. But it’s just for a few weeks. And then…”

And then what? Viktor doesn’t know. He has about two weeks to catch up on the training he’d missed in the months he’d been coaching Yuuri, and there’s no way to do that but by training with Yakov in person. Past that? Viktor had pledged that he would coach Yuuri as well as compete, but he hadn’t thought about _how._ He wouldn’t be the first skater to train countries away from their coach if he chose to remain in Hasetsu with Yuuri, but until now he’d lived with Yakov in St. Petersburg since he was eight, and that’s how he’d always trained.

He could probably do it. Hasetsu is home now, just like how, after Yuri had chewed Viktor out at Barcelona’ ocean, he’d said that it reminded him of Hasetsu. All Viktor had been able to think about in that moment was how he wanted to stand with Yuuri in the Hasetsu’s sun and feel the wind in his hair and hear the seagulls cry. 

So Viktor will sacrifice what it takes to coach Yuuri and he’ll find a way to make it work so that he doesn’t sacrifice his own competitive ability. It’s unlikely that he’ll have more than one competitive season left in him after this one anyway, so it wouldn’t be unexpected if he was never able to reclaim his world records.

But he will, won’t he? That’s not how the story goes. The story says that Viktor and Yuuri will share podiums until they retire and they’ll get married and coach together and, even after they’ve left the ice, it will be a part of them forever.

“And then we’ll figure it out,” Viktor finishes, and Yuuri sighs softly and closes his eyes as Viktor kisses his forehead.

“It’s hard for me not to ask if you’re sure,” Yuuri says, and Viktor had already sensed the question at his lips. “But I know you are, and I respect that. I trust you. I just…”

“Yeah.” In the months since Viktor had started coaching Yuuri, they’d only spent a few nights apart, when Viktor had left Yuuri alone for his disastrous free skate at the Rostelecom Cup. Even that brief time away from each other had been unbearable.

But they don’t have a choice. Every skater knows that sacrifices must be made to achieve their goals, and if this means that they have to spend time apart in order for Viktor to make his comeback, then it must be done.

Viktor had made conditions, of course. When Yuuri had asked for them to end things after his short program, he’d been asking for more than Viktor to give up coaching him. Viktor becoming Yuuri’s coach had been what had brought them together, and how they’d learned to love each other. Viktor had given up everything for Yuuri, because he’d needed to, because Yuuri had needed him, so how would he be able to return to the ice without Yuuri at his side?

Viktor had survived being away from skating by giving all of himself away, everything he used to give to the ice, to Yuuri. And then suddenly, Yuuri had started giving himself back—with the quad flip and the rings and his wish that Viktor make his comeback, and Viktor, for all the time he’d spent flirting and falling in love with Yuuri, hadn’t been able to keep up anymore.

“Two weeks isn’t very long,” Yuuri says, like he’s trying to convince himself of the fact. “After that…”

It’s the _after that_ that makes this so much harder. Maybe Yuuri will fly out to Russia to cheer Viktor on, or maybe he’ll watch from behind a screen. And then maybe Yuuri will have changed his mind, or it’ll be too hard to return to what they’d been doing before, or Viktor will fail or Yuuri will crash and they’ll both suffer.

Maybe it’s Viktor who’s the most scared of leaving.

Viktor feels tears prick at his eyes before he can stop them. Yuuri notices immediately, and this time, he isn’t surprised to see him cry. “Vitenka,” he says, lifting his hands to wipe away Viktor’s tears. Viktor’s breath catches in his throat. Yuuri always speaks a little easier when he has a little champagne in him, but tonight he’s not even tipsy, mostly sobered up from what he’d had at the banquet. “What if I went with you to St. Petersburg?”

Before Yuuri, Viktor didn’t know how to be loved. Yuuri had taught him how, and so much more, and now Viktor doesn’t know how to live apart from him.

“What?” Viktor says, not sure that he’d heard Yuuri correctly. “You mean until the Russian Nationals?”

Yuuri grins and shakes his head. “For the rest of the season at least. I want to compete against you when you’re at your best, and it wouldn’t be fair if only one of us got to train with our coach.”

“But—,” Viktor says, and cuts himself off with a watery gasp. He remembers Yuuri’s words. _I respect that. I trust you._ “

“We have a week to decide,” Yuuri says. He pulls Viktor down until their foreheads are touched together. “And if it doesn’t work—we’ll figure that out. But I want to be with you. I want you to be my coach until I retire. I want to live with you in Russia.”

Viktor can’t help it. He kisses Yuuri, and Yuuri kisses him back, and it’s perfect. Yuuri is perfect, their love is perfect—and Viktor wants to be with him forever.

Before Yuuri’s last skate, the one meant to be his last ever free skate, they’d cried together, and it had taken everything in Viktor to let him go, to skate out to the center of the rink and conclude the last chapter of their time together. But Yuuri had given him the greatest expression of his love, a program with the same difficulty as his, ending with his signature jump, and then broke his long-standing world record to top it off.

“What did you think just now?” Viktor had asked Yuuri as they’d clutched each other tightly after Yuuri had received his metal. He’d hoped, more than anything, that Yuuri’s instinct would be to keep skating with Viktor, even though his instincts often led him astray.

Out of the dozens, maybe hundreds, of times that Yuuri has made Viktor proud since he’d started coaching him, this might have been the most satisfying moment.

“I want you to show me all around St. Petersberg,” Yuuri breathes. “You lived with me in Hasetsu for a year. It’s your turn now.”

When Viktor thinks about it, it’s easy to picture. He’d show Yuuri all of his favorite places, all of the ones he used to frequent when he was lonely, but now with Yuuri at his side. They’d skate together at Viktor’s home rink, and maybe Yuuri would be a bit starstruck. He thinks of waking up next to Yuuri every morning, maybe with Makkachin at the foot of the bed, and he says, “Please.”

Viktor Nikiforov isn’t used to asking for things, but he’d grown up lonely and hungry, and he’d begged Yuuri to stay with him for months and months and months, and then Yuuri had fallen in love with Viktor just as desperately as Viktor was in love with him, and he’s felt alive ever since. As if thinking the same thing, Yuuri kisses him again, and Viktor falls in love with him all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hopefulgcf)!!!


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